A Christmas Miracle
by GeneHuntress
Summary: Festive two-shot set after the end of S3. As another Christmas Eve in the Railway Arms beckons, a lonely Alex Drake takes stock. Is it finally time to give up hope and move on?
1. Chapter 1

So, here we are again. Seems every time I think I'm done with them, the Guv and Bolly have other ideas!

Maybe the miracle theme was in my head because I've had a minor one of my own recently. Finally managed to complete my first full length novel. The idea came to me 4 years ago while I was lying in a hospital bed recovering from major surgery, so it's taken a while to come to fruition. Hopefully the next in the series won't be so time consuming!

Anyway, on with this particular festive offering …

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**A Christmas Miracle**

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**Chapter 1**

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"What can I get you, DI Drake?"

Nelson raised a questioning eyebrow as Alex slid onto a bar stool and made herself comfortable.

"Hmmm. Champagne, I think, in honour of the occasion."

"Comin' right up."

"Bollinger, I presume?"

"Of course! Only the best for you, milady."

He flashed her a toothy grin. She'd been "milady" ever since her arrival, on account of the plum in her gob, apparently. She watched as he poured out a glass, allowing the pale amber liquid to settle before she took a sip. The bubbles tickled her nose.

_See you around, Bolly-Kecks._

She sighed. Maybe she shouldn't have ordered champagne after all …

Pushing the memory away, she glanced around the pub, exchanging nods with the few people present. She'd felt twitchy and restless, unable to settle to anything, so she'd come downstairs early seeking a distraction. For some reason, she'd felt compelled to take extra care with her appearance, even though it would only be the usual crowd. They'd had no newcomers in a while now. She tried to think back. Early autumn, maybe?

At first she'd felt it was important to keep tabs on the passage of time, but life – or rather the afterlife - soon took on a dreamlike quality and the days began to slip by, one blurring into the next. There was a calendar of sorts behind the bar but it only displayed the day and the month. She'd been pleasantly surprised to find that there were seasons: at least it went some way towards breaking the monotony. In the winter, it was chilly and there was a roaring fire. In the summer, they sat in the beer garden out back, enjoying the feel of sun on their skin.

And now it was Christmas Eve once again. Was it her fourth or fifth here? She wrinkled her brow and then decided it didn't really matter. At least she'd never been entirely among strangers: Ray was still around, and she'd made a couple of other friends. Chris and Shaz had 'moved on' a few months after their arrival, presumably following in the footsteps of Sam and Annie, and many others before them. There were no great dramatic scenes, no tearful goodbyes: one day people were sitting enjoying a drink with everyone else, the next they weren't. When she'd tackled Nelson about it, he'd just shrugged and told her they were 'around and about'. She began to wonder if there was a saloon bar elsewhere filled with loved-up ex coppers. Except it wasn't only couples who vanished.

"_Why are DI Carling and I still here after all this time?"_

_"I think you already know the answer ter that one, milady."_

Nelson was right; she had figured it out for herself fairly swiftly. Only those who made peace with their fate were able to 'move on'. Those with unfinished business remained behind until they found a way to resolve their issues. For some, that meant a gradual acceptance. For others, the forging of a new relationship. For a lucky few, the rekindling of an old flame after a joyous reunion.

Ray had swiftly adapted to his new circumstances and reverted to type, bedding a string of women, moving from one to the next without a backwards glance. That had all changed when DI Yvonne Wilde walked through the door. The petite brunette had big brown eyes, curves in all the right places, and attitude in spades. It was love at first sight. Well, lust at first sight to be fair, but it had blossomed into something special. The two of them were inseparable now, and he seemed very content with the situation. Yvonne had become a good friend to Alex too, and she'd been dreading the day she walked into the bar to find them gone. As yet it hadn't happened, and she'd realised that she and DI Carling were both stuck, mired in the past, clinging on more in hope than expectation. The absurdity was not lost on her.

_"Let's go."_

_"We can't."_

_"Why not?"_

_"We're waiting for Godot."_

She heaved a sigh. Maybe it _was_ finally time to let go. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away. _Damn you, Gene Hunt. _

"Drinking alone again, Gorgeous?"

DI Higgins materialised at her elbow and she squared her shoulders, determined not to let him know she was upset. Even the slightest whiff of vulnerability and she'd be stuck with him for the evening.

"I'm not alone. I have Nelson to talk to."

He leaned in closer.

"Nelson can't give you what you need. Don't you ever get lonely all by yourself in that big bed of yours?"

She shrugged.

"Occasionally."

"Then why fight it, sweetheart? You know I could keep you warm all night long …"

He waggled his eyebrows lasciviously and she sighed. Charlie Higgins was good looking enough with his dark eyes and winning smile, but he was hardly the man of her dreams. Only one handsome rumpled northern flatfoot ever featured in those, and what dreams they were. Unfortunately, she always woke just as things were getting interesting and found herself lying alone in the dark; trembling, sweaty, unsatisfied. Seems her libido was still very much alive, even if she wasn't.

"Sorry, you're just not my type."

"You know how to wound a guy."

He placed a hand over his heart, his eyes twinkling. He always took her inevitable rebuff with good humour, much to her relief. Clearly the idiot enjoyed a challenge.

"Well, I'll just be over here if you change your mind. No one should be alone at Christmas, it's the rule."

She rolled her eyes.

"Goodbye, Charlie."

After he'd sauntered off, she took another sip of her champagne, still feeling jittery and on edge. _I wonder what he's doing tonight. _It was painful to remember, but forgetting would have been a million times worse. She pictured him sitting alone at 'their' table in Luigi's with a bottle of house red, ciggie in hand, familiar pout firmly in place. Or in his office, feet up on the desk, toying with a glass of whiskey. Visions of him crowded her mind and his voice echoed in her ears.

_ "You, in leather. Gives me the 'orn."_

"_Oh, Lord. If this is a test, I fear I may fail."_

It was sweet torture.

"Pint when yer ready, Nelson, and whatever my beloved desires."

Ray appeared at the bar with Yvonne in tow. She spotted Alex's drink and her eyes widened in approval.

"Oooh, champagne. Good idea!"

"Another glass fer you too, ma'am?"

Ray raised a questioning eyebrow, and Alex mustered a smile.

"Why not?"

For a brief moment his gaze locked with hers and a look of mutual understanding passed between them.

"Merry Christmas, Alex."

He leant in to give her a peck on the cheek.

"Same to you, Ray."

"Right, I'll just go and grab a table."

After he'd moved away, Yvonne gave Alex a quick hug.

"Why don't you come and join us?"

"I don't make a very good gooseberry, I'm afraid."

Yvonne frowned.

"You wouldn't be. Honestly."

"Thanks, but I'm not great company tonight."

She sighed and Yvonne squeezed her arm.

"I understand. You will pop over later, though?"

"OK, if you insist."

Alex watched her friend walk away and returned to her musings. She'd made a point of pumping each new arrival for even the smallest snippet of news, subtly she hoped, but mostly it had got her nowhere. The blokes just shrugged and mumbled something about DCI Hunt being a decent bloke and a damn good copper. The women got a faraway look in their eye.

_"He's just … you know … the Guv."_

_"Bit of a bastard, but there's just something about him, isn't there?"  
_  
Comments were generally accompanied by a dismissive shrug, but the heightened colour in their faces betrayed them. Alex had secretly christened it the 'Gene Genie Glow'. The conversation with DI Wilde hadn't followed the predictable route, though. At first she'd been less than forthcoming, even though Alex had kept on burrowing for information. Eventually Yvonne had pinned her with knowing stare.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but were the two of you an item?"

_Ooops. Rumbled. _

"Yes. No. Sort of. It's complicated."

Yvonne gave her a wry smile.

"Isn't it always?"

After that, Alex had shared the whole sorry tale, happy to finally get if off her chest.

"Oh dear. So near and yet so far, huh?"

Yvonne shook her head symathetically.

"Don't remind me …"

Alex grimaced. How many times had she gone over it in her head since? Too many to count, unfortunately.

"Shame. I bet he's great in bed, too."

Caught off guard, Alex gawped at her.

"Just an observation. Don't worry, there was never anything like that between us. We made a good team, that's all."

Yvonne grinned, and the pressure in Alex's chest eased.

"If it makes you feel any better, there was never any sign that he was seeing anyone. In between work, sleep and drinking late in Luigi's, I doubt he had the opportunity, never mind the inclination."

Alex toyed with her glass.

"I hope you're right. He's an attractive bloke in the prime of life, though. Difficult to imagine he's gone all this time without … you know …."

Her stomach clenched. _He may be some kind of an angel, but he's definitely no saint._

"It's possible there might have been the odd casual hook-up, I guess."

"I suppose I could hardly hold that against him."

She sighed. Even considering the possibility felt like a knife twisting in her gut.

"And what about you, DI Drake? I bet you've had your fair share of offers."

Alex gave her a weak smile.

"Sadly, none of them seemed remotely appealing."

Yvonne squeezed her arm.

"The heart wants what the heart wants, huh? Don't give up hope. One day he'll step through that door, you mark my words …"

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Will Yvonne's faith be rewarded? Will Alex give up and cop off (ha) with Charlie?

If you're enjoying and you want more, do let me know. The last few months have been pretty rough, so a bit of moral support would be much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

So nice to know that people still have a soft spot for A2A after all this time. Thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a review – it really is appreciated.

Without further ado …

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**Chapter 2**

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It was late in the evening. Early high spirits had settled into a more reflective mood as people chatted quietly or meditated on Christmases past. 'It'll Be Lonely This Christmas' was playing on the juke box and a couple were wrapped around one another, swaying gently to the music. It had been christened the Magic Juke Box because of its seemingly unlimited capacity: all anyone had to do was to think of a song, and there it was at the top of the playlist.

Alex was still seated at the bar, cradling a glass of house red in honour of happier occasions. She'd long since given up the idea of socialising: her head was too crowded with bittersweet memories. How many times had she and the Guv come close to locking lips? She'd lost count. Either someone had interrupted at the crucial moment, or one of them had realised the enormity of taking that next step and backed away. When it had finally happened, it had been a kiss suffused with sadness and regret. A kiss goodbye. Even now, it still had the power to bring her to tears.

_"I go where I'm needed, Bols."_

Well, she needed him, now more than ever. _Where are you, Gene?_

"Looks like we're in for a white Christmas, milady."

Nelson broke into her reverie.

"It's snowing?"

She blinked at him in wonder and he grinned, glancing over her shoulder. Twisting her head, she followed his line of vision and furrowed her brows. Had that window always been there? Slipping off her stool, she moved to stand in front of it, clearing the misted glass with her sleeve. Outside, the world had turned white. Snow blanketed tables and benches, and there were already a couple of inches lying on the sill. The breeze had picked up, blowing the fat flakes around in whirls and eddies. The effect was almost hypnotic.

She had no idea how long she'd been standing there when the oddest feeling came over her. It reminded her of childhood Christmas Eves: the heady mix of excitement and anticipation, the aura of magic hanging in the air. Her skin began to tingle and a prickle of awareness skittered down her spine.

Suddenly the wind moaned louder and an icy blast swirled around her ankles. Behind her, the front door slammed with enough force to rattle the windows. All the hairs on her arms stood up. She froze, rooted to the spot, and somehow she _knew. _She felt it right down to the bone, even before conversation petered out and a deathly hush fell over the room.

"Its bloody brass monkeys out there tonight!"

A gravelly voice with a distinctive northern inflection punctured the silence. Her heart stuttered in her chest, drumming against her ribcage as the whole place erupted in a cacophony of sound: whoops and yells, cheers and applause. Chairs scraped the floor as folk leapt to their feet and surged forwards en masse, desperate to welcome the newcomer. Voices were raised in exuberant greeting as everyone spoke at once.

"About bleedin' time!"

"What kept you?"

"Nelson, get the man a pint!"

Alex couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Gradually, the noise level returned to something approaching normal, and still she was afraid to look. _Please don't let me be dreaming._

"So, Bolly-Kecks. Yer gonna kiss me or punch me?"

There was affection in his gruff tone, but also trepidation. A sob rose in her throat, but she forced it down. This was not the time to fall apart. Lifting her chin, she squared her shoulders and turned to face him.

"To tell you the truth, I'm really not sure."

Their gazes locked and held. For a long moment they simply drank each other in. His eyes were even more breath-taking than she remembered, and she couldn't wait to kiss the pout off those sensual lips. She cocked her head to one side.

"You don't look much like Santa Claus."

"Red isn't really me colour."

"Do you at least come bearing gifts?"

His mouth twitched.

"Maybe. Play yer cards right and I'll give you one later."

She quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm counting on that."

The urge to reach out and touch him was almost overwhelming.

"Don't move. I'll be right back."

The sashayed over to the juke box, knowing his gaze would be firmly fixed on her behind and glad now that she'd made some effort with her appearance. The little black dress clung to her curves and the heels made her legs look endless. Choosing her song, she pressed the button and made her way back to him. As the first strains of Spandau Ballet filled the room, she held out a hand.

"Dance with me, Guv."

He pouted at her, but there was a flash of longing in the depths of his silver-blue eyes.

"The Gene Genie does not dance."

"You and I both know that's not true, don't we?"

He blew out a long breath before drawing her into the circle of his arms. Laying her head on his shoulder, she breathed in the heady scent of whiskey, cigarettes and something indefinably _him_, and sighed. He wasn't a figment of her imagination. He was warm, he was solid, he was _real.  
_Suddenly, it was all too much. The strangeness of it. The familiarity of it. Emotion clogged her throat and she began to tremble.

"Gene …"

Her voice wobbled dangerously.

"I know."

Holding her close, he brushed his lips across her forehead. They swayed together until the need for comfort and reassurance passed, and a different longing altogether took its place. Slowly, tentatively, she raised her head until their faces were mere inches apart. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she held her breath.

He kissed her then: softly, lingeringly, his tongue entwining with hers in a slow sensual dance. Moaning low in her throat, she threaded her fingers though his silky mane and moulded herself to him. _Wow. _She might be dead, but she'd never known heaven until now.

On and on they went, lost in each other, ignoring the wolf-whistles and the suggestions to "Get a room!" until finally the need for oxygen forced them apart. Breathless, she searched his face, relieved to see that he looked as shell-shocked as she felt. Right on cue, the clock behind the bar began to chime midnight.

"Merry Christmas, Gene."

Her lips curved into a hesitant smile.

"Same to you, Lady Bols."

Dropping her gaze to his chest, she slid her fingers slowly down the length of his lapel.

"Would you … um … like to come upstairs with me? If you play your cards right, I might even show you my etchings."

She gazed up at him from under her lashes. His eyes took on a predatory gleam and her heart rate kicked up again. If the Manc Lion was on the prowl, she was more than happy to be his prey.

"That's the best offer I've had in a very long time."

"Glad to hear it."

"Somethin' I need to know first though, Alex."

His voice was gruff. He cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels.

"Not plannin' on runnin' out on me again, are yer?"

She swallowed, her heart squeezing at the memory. Reaching up to cup his cheek, she gazed into his eyes, needing him to know. _To_ _believe._

"Never. You and me, Guv. Unbreakable."

He searched her face for a long moment, and then gave a brief nod.

"In that case, what are we waitin' for?"

…

Nelson watched them leave, hand in hand, and a broad grin spread across his face. Whistling to himself, he returned to polishing glasses.  
One of the few remaining stragglers carried his drink over to the juke box, pondered for a moment, and pressed a button.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas.  
Let your heart be light.  
From now on, your troubles will be out of sight._

He nodded in satisfaction, downed the last of his whiskey, and headed for the door humming along to the final verse.

_Through the years we all will be together  
If the fates allow.  
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough.  
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now …_

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THE END

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Because we all know that's what happened, don't we? Methinks they deserve some alone time now … *tiptoes away*

If you enjoyed, you know what to do! Meanwhile, I'm off to spend some quality time with my nearest and dearest, no doubt indulging in the usual festive traditions: eating, drinking and falling out over board games!

Even more reason this year, as it hasn't been the best of times, family-wise. My mum was diagnosed with cancer back in October, bless her. Fortunately, despite her advancing years, she came through the surgery with flying colours and is recovering well, much to our relief.

Anyway, onwards and upwards, huh? Wishing all you lovely people a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Here's hoping it's a good 'un. xx


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